Dark Chaos
by theillyrianwolf999
Summary: Feyre's powers start to take control as feelings she hadn't ever felt before are developed. Rated M for possible sextual content later.
1. The Voices

_Forest green eyes, sparkling with laughter, peered down at me as I screamed. Golden hair shook as he laughed at my pain. There was a second voice, a red haired high fae. They laughed and kissed, even as they split my skin with ash. Tamlin and Amaratha, my lover and my murderer. Two varying forms of hate._

 _Beautiful, strong wings were spread out on the wall in front of me, attached to the High Lord of Night, chained and roaring, arching against his bounds as he tried to get to me. As the edges of my vision turned black from the pain._

Shaking and sweating, I hauled myself out of bed and to the toilet. The remains of my dinner from the previous night spilled into the porcelain bowl, the seat turning black from the dark mist wafting from my talons. Talons of night.

The walls pressed down on my from my spot on the floor, the only reprieve being the vast night sky shimmering from outside my window. I had to get _out_ , away from my prison and home. Into that vast darkness that called to my bones- my soul.

I lunged for the window, shattering the delicate glass into a million pieces. The soft ground absorbed my fall as I dropped out of the frame. Forcing air into my lungs, I pushed north, where the tattered remains of my soul told me to go. I couldn't go to the gardens- couldn't force the thick scent of roses into my frail body. The open air and night was enough space that I could think. Could breath.

Tamlin had been the enemy in this nightmare. But the real pain was seeing Rhys that way. The fractured remains of my heart bled when I saw his beautiful wings pinned to the wall, the terror on his face so real that I cracked-

I heaved again, the acid burning my throat as I gazed into the vast night, north, all the way to Rhys.

Tamlin was who I loved. So why was it that I cracked at the sight of Rhys in pain? So why was it, that despite everything, I couldn't hate Rhysand?

I spent the eternity of the night outside.

Dawn broke through the clouds as I slipped silently back into my bedroom. Sighing slightly, out of relief or sadness, I didn't know, as I realized I go back with Rhysand today. At least I could breath there.

I plopped down on the silk bed to examine what books I had, if any of them were worth reading. Nothing. The books at the Night Court were far more interesting than here. Maybe I could even sleep through the night tonight.

Whatever thought had caused that nightmare, it was the most real one i'd had yet. I was looking forward to getting away from Tamlin for a while. Maybe eating more than once a day.

I silently scolded myself for letting Rhys make me look forward to our week. But as much as I hoped, I wished I could hate him, I just couldn't. Even as I pulled out the Night Court style clothes that I had come to like more than any other here.

A deep throated growl dragged me from my thoughts. I had just finished getting dressed my clothes, looser than they had been last month, when a golden male stalked into my room, loud and impatient. Followed by a dark prince, and one I had looked forward to seeing.

"I told you to wait out there," Tamlin snarled at Rhysand, who was dressed in all his finery, wings that I had dreamed of nowhere to be seen. As much as I tried to convince myself that I was upset to leave, that I would miss the manor, I knew in my soul it wasn't true.

But as soon as Rhys looked at me, his smirk fell. "Feyre, are you running low on food here?" I must look like i'm starving, because his velvety voice was full of nothing but concern. I tried to will some feeling into my eyes, anything, but the truth was that looking forward to today was the only feeling i'd felt for a while.

Tamlin snarled, as if this offended _him_. Anger glazed over Rhys' eyes, for a second, just one second, before it was leashed once again. He stepped around Tamlin as if he were a piece of furniture, extending his tan hand to me. "Lets go."

I grasped his warm hand, willing Tamlin to stop growling at Rhys, at us, because anger was the only thing I could feel. I didn't understand it, that rage. Rhys was Tamlin's enemy, so he should be mine, too. But I couldn't hate him.

Tamlin shoved our hands down, breaking that chain and the warmth that flowed from it. Fiery rage coursed through my veins. My muscles were tense, like an asp waiting to strike. A very, _very_ thin asp. I relaxed, frozen once more. Rhys studied me.

"You end this bargain, and i'll give you anything you want. Anything," Tamlin snarled. The golden male of Spring, and the dark prince of Night. There was no comparison.

Rhys' voice was silk-soft as he said, "I already have everything I want." And winnowed us away.

When we arrived, I didn't have enough strength to push him away. I simply stepped out of his embrace, my arms falling to my sides seconds before he pulled my shoulders to face him. "What _happened_ to you?" He howled. Everything and nothing. Nothing and Everything.

"None of your concern," I replied, but the words had no bite. I was too exhausted from the bit of temper i'd shown earlier. His violet eyes were full of sorrow and anger, and I was again brought back to my nightmare.

His beautiful wings spread taunt across the wall. His bellow of rage, of pain.

"When did you have that dream?" He said, too quietly. I was so tired, but I rallied my energy up one last time to haul up my shield of dark mist and black adamant. It crumpled seconds later, and I didn't put it back up. True concern filled his features. And something else, some stronger emotion behind it. Something I could barely recognize.

I gave up. "Last night," I replied, shocked at how frail and broken my voice sounded. Maybe it would have been better if I had died Under The Mountain, if I had faded into the simple darkness-

He gripped my chin so hard it hurt. "Don't _ever_ think that. Ever. She wins. That bitch wins if you let yourself fall apart," He snarled, our breath mingling. Then I was seeing through his eyes, looking at my small form, frial, like it could break at any moment. His thoughts floated to me on a midnight wind.

I was a ghost. Pale skin, sunken in eyes. I looked worse then I did when I came to Prythian. He blinked, and I was thrown back into my body, small and empty and dark.

He really didn't know the true extent of how badly i'd broken the moment my neck snapped. The moment when a mortal soul slipped into an immortal body. His thoughts told me enough of that, and it was an invasion I was too tired to feel bad about.

He loosened his grip on my chin. "How many other minds how you slipped into?" He asked, fake laughter floating up to his eyes, so different from the male I had come to recognize.

I had gone into his mind, just like Lucien-

His head tipped back with true laughter. "Lucien? What a miserable place to be," He huffed. I didn't have enough energy to snip back, so I just started toward where my room was last time. My small feet carried me about ten feet before Rhys spoke again.

"Eat breakfast with me?" He called, and it was enough of a broken plea that I relented, motioning for him to lead the way. We walked a healthy distance apart, even as my frozen form craved his warmth. Even if I was truly freezing.

I dropped into my chair as he slid into his, graceful as a wildcat. His violet eyes were sad as he took me in again. My stomach growled, and I reached over to grab a muffin or two, and some fruit, dumping them on my plate. I had nothing in my stomach because of my nightmare-

I mentally growled at myself. I couldn't ponder the dream until Rhys wasn't there, until I could put up my shield of black adamant again.

"Does no one at the Spring Court see what is happening to you? Does Tamlin not care?" He growled softly. "Do you care? You look," His eyes were full of sadness. "Like a ghost." I was brought back to last night, when the only thing that could calm me was the night sky.

"He is giving me space to sort myself out," I responded. Tamlin cared. Maybe too much.

He swallowed. The ghost of mighty wings spread from behind his chair. "Do _you_ care?" I cared. I had cared. Maybe there was no point to caring, though. Every request was denied. I was drowning at the manor.

I looked him in the eyes, refusing to back down from his stare. But I didn't respond.

Those leathery wings took a solid form as he braced his hands on the table. " _Do. You. Care?"_ He snarled. He didn't scare me. The thing that scared me was his desperate need to get a reaction. I blinked slowly.

We stayed in silence, his question lingering in the air. Until I answered.

"I try, you know. To get them to let me out," I whispered. "But I don't see why I should keep trying if it will never happen." The words were true. They were my own. They owned me, and there was nothing I could do to convince them to let me out.

Rhys winnowed to me so fast I couldn't even blink before he was standing right infront of my chair, snarling in my face. " _They do not own you. You are no one's pet,"_ I swallowed.

My vision swirled, the dark power of his calling to the beast stalking under my skin. His rage fed that beast, until I couldn't control it anymore. I jumped up, slamming him away. It was pain like I have never felt before, as if each bone in my body was being shattered. His dark power called to me, and I let it feed me. Until the darkness in me echoed it.

I shook my head violently, trying to clear the roaring in my head. There were seven voices screaming. A wild beast, a fiery soul, a sea breeze, an icy growl, a healing roar, and the loudest of all, a night dark howl. All screaming at me to let go of that creature hollering to be let out. It was dark and light at the same time, and I just _became_.

Rhys was wide-eyed across the room, the owner of that dark howl. I could see the tendrils of night coming off his body as my own echoed it. All I could see was a swirl of dark and light, and his body standing before me, now holding me, murmuring into my ear to let it out, let it out of me. I was lost in a sea of ice and fire, and it was like I was back Under The Mountain, back in my cell, burning up from fever. It was that thought that made me grasp whatever I could find, mainly the citrus scent of Rhysand. He pulled me into his soothing warmth, wrapping his arms around me. I buried my face in his shoulder, savoring the new-found silence.

He murmured into my ear, holding me against him, as I tugged his scent deep down inside me. It was quiet, so blissfully quiet that I just stood there, listening to his murmurings. It took me a moment to realize I was holding him, too. I was holding him like a lifeline tossed into a stormy sea.

"It's alright, i'm here. I'm here," He whispered into my ear. I don't know how he knew it, but those were the most comforting things I had ever heard. He murmured it into my ear until my breathing slowed back to normal. I was shaking. I was trembling so hard it hurt.

Rhys wrapped his galexy wings around me, surrounding me with night. That beast slumbered once again. He winnowed us to my room.

"Sleep," He whispered once before exhaustion tucked me into oblivion.

 _Forest green eyes, sparkling with laughter, peered down at me as I screamed. Golden hair shook as he laughed at my pain. There was a second voice, a red haired high fae. They laughed and kissed, even as they split my skin with ash. Tamlin and Amaratha, my lover and my murderer. Two varying forms of hate._

 _Beautiful, strong wings were spread out on the wall in front of me, attached to the High Lord of Night, chained and roaring, arching against his bounds as he tried to get to me. As the edges of my vision turned black from the pain._

 _Amaratha turned to him, shoving the ash dagger into his heart._

" _FEYRE."_


	2. The Ice

_Chapter 2_

 _I yanked up my hands. Black talons, ending in flame, sprouted from my ice kissed fingertips. It was chaos, light and dark, ice and fire. The bile rising up my throat froze. Then melted. I tasted ash. Rapping around my wrist, my entire form, were strands of night, whirls of black and stars and darkness. The blueish chains holding me nullified nothing. They shattered with half a thought as I roared, springing to Rhys, clawing out the ash. It wouldn't kill him. It wasn't his heart. At the same time I found myself feeding him my blood before turning to the monsters behind._

I shook violently upon waking.

"You need to learn to control your powers," Rhys drawled from across the room. That empty, aching pit inside of me caved in a bit. I did need to learn to control these newfound pieces of me, these voices that roared and screamed and whined.

"The voices- was that the first time you heard them yesterday?" He asked. It's been a day. The sounds were real. It wasn't a nightmare.

"You can hear them?" My voice was tired.

"Yes, I can hear them when… When they go out of control. That's your powers telling you to let them out." His voice was a midnight caress as he surveyed my body. I looked around the room, surprised to find an armchair next to the bed, a quilt covering it. Rhys must've slept here. "You didn't answer my question."

I was too tired to lie, and he had saved my useless hide. "No, but it was the loudest." It was the truth, just not all of it.

As if in response, the voices- my powers, acted up again. _Let us out. We will help you, give you purpose. Let us out. Let us out. Let us out,_ the voices in my head roared in unison. I lowered my head into my hands, trying to shush them.

Rhys was thoughtful for a moment. "Do you have an answer to my offer?" He asked.

No, I didn't. But… I couldn't work with him. Not now, with everything going on right now.

"I'm not going to work with you," I said quietly.

He met my gaze, sorrow and fear and anger in his violet eye. It all vanished a soon as it came. "I'll be gone during the week. The house is yours. Send word if you need anything," A rustle of invisible wings, and he was gone.

I took the time to ponder the nightmare, and I couldn't think of anything besides horrification.

~Ω~

Rhys returned at the end of the week. It had passed by in a blur, and I had taken to situating myself in one of the pretty little patios, reading in the large armchair that must've been built to accommodate wings. The palace was warm and open- so open that I didn't rush to the bathroom when I was startled awake in the middle of the night.

A perfect place for a High Lord that had wings, and loved to fly, I supposed. And it was nice, the joyful quiet.

I had just finished a chapter in the book I was reading- _The Rose Society_ \- when Rhys slid between the chairs with two plates of food in his hands.

The woman who'd hurtled a bone-spear at Amarantha… I didn't know where she was anymore. Perhaps she vanished the day her neck snapped and faerie immortality filled her veins.

"Since you seem hell-bent on the sedentary lifestyle," He said- when had I last eaten? "I thought I'd go one step further and bring your food to you."

My stomach was already twisting with hunger, and I closed the book, lowering it into my lap. "Thank you."

A short laugh. " _Thank you?_ Not ' _High Lord and servant?'_ Or: ' _Whatever it is you want, you can go shove it up your ass, Rhysand.'_ " He clicked his tongue. "How disappointing."

I set down the book and extended a hand for the plate. He could listen to himself talk all day, but I wanted to eat. Now.

My hand had almost grazed the rim of the plate when it just _slid_ away.

I reached again. Once more, a tendril of his power yanked the plate further back.

"Let me help you, Feyre," He said. "Tell me what to do to help you."

Rhys kept the plate just beyond reach. He spoke again, and as if the words tumbling loosened his grip on his power, talons of smoke curled over his fingers and great wings of shadow spread from his back. "Months and months, and you're still a ghost. Does no one there ask what the hell is happening? Do any of you _care?_ " He spit the question again.

He did care. Tamlin _did_ care. Perhaps too much. "He's giving me the space to sort it out," I breathed. I barely recognized my voice.

"Let me help you," Rhys said. "We went through enough Under the Mountain-"

I flinched, sinking back into the chair.

"She wins." He breathed, terror lacing every word. "That bitch wins if you let yourself fall apart."

I wondered if he'd been telling himself that for months now, wondered if he, too, had moments when his own memories sometimes suffocated him deep in the night.

But I lifted the book, firing two words down the bond between us before hauling up the best shields I could. They weren't very strong.

 _Conversation over._

"Like hell it is," he snarled. A thrum of power caressed my hands. My nails dug into the leather and paper- to no avail.

Bastard. Arrogant, presuming _bastard._

The voices started again.

And for the first time, I welcomed them.

 _Out out out out out out out!_ They screamed.

Ice flew across the floor.

Froze the legs of the chairs.

Froze the table

Froze like my dark, crumbling heart.

I growled, the book crumbling in my ice talons as I squeezed, and I looked down at what I'd done in horrification. I looked up.

No ice had touched Rhys, and somehow I knew, deep inside me, that it was _me_ who saved him from sure-death at the cold and merciless hands of my ice.

~Ω~


	3. Traitor

Something fractured inside of me at the sight of ice-spikes covering the ground, everywhere but where Rhys was standing, so close to impaling his legs, so close to hurting him so badly he would see me as the monster I was.

I heard him swallow. "Feyre." He said.

The winter wind won over in my head for the time being. _Power. This is what it feels like. This is control._

I lifted my palm and called on the voice of pure fire. _Melt the ice._ I said with such force the icy voice quieted.

 _Yes, Lady._ The flame whispered as it snaked down my fingertips. "Feyre," Rhys repeated. I could get us both killed. He'd survive- he could winnow. If my powers weren't restraining him, a pulse of light blocking his access.

The ice hissed as it melted away, and Rhys never took his eyes away from me. A dark breath of mine wiped away any trace of my powers, and he took a deep breath as his rushed back to him. He walked toward me slowly, as if I was a wild animal.

"Did I hurt you?" I whispered. He folded me into his arms, and I snaked mine around him. He rested his head atop my head.

"No," His voice was strong and sure. "Are you alright?"

I was a mess. The strings that held me together were all jumbled and tangled, and my powers were silent. I almost killed Rhys.

It was dark, cruel chaos.

I ran my arms over his back, reminding myself that he was fine, he was here and he was unhurt.

I turned my face into his chest. Sturdy, safe. I wanted to curl up in his warmth.

The headache started again, pulsing hard. I whimpered. Rhys' hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me and keeping me in his embrace. Not that I wanted to leave it. His chin found its way to the top of my head, my hair shimmering burnished gold in the light.

"It's been a week," I mumbled into his chest, and he tensed. "I have to go back."

"No, you don't," He growled.

But I did. I had to go back, for Tamlin. Because he _was_ making an effort. And because I didn't want Rhys to be anywhere near if I lost control again. He sighed in defeat, and his power began to twirl around us.

The night sky draped around me, a wind blowing across my face and hair, and-

Sunlight. The suffocating scent of roses. Lucien caught sight of me through the window and started to rush toward us. Rhys' cocky grin was back. "I'll see you next week." He let me go.

 _Just give a shout if you're ever bored._ I could hear the undercurrent of worry in his voice, even in my mind.

I just turned away.

~Ω~

Tamlin grilled me for details on the castle, and I gave him what he wanted to hear. I said that Mor didn't come back, I said that he left me alone. I told him that the walls were white and the curtains fluttered in the breeze. I didn't tell him about the ice. Or the voices. Or what had happened between Rhys and me.

And maybe I was a treacherous, lying piece of trash for it, but I didn't feel bad.

As the days went by, I stopped eating. I went from eating whenever possible to eating once a day, and little at that. My cheeks and eyes were hollow, my eye lifeless, missing their spark. I looked worse than when I lived in the mortal realm.

I lost hope that it would get better.

I normally woke up at around dinner and often didn't bother to set my face into a pleasant expression as I dragged myself down to the dining room.

I was relieved when Tamlin stopped coming to my rooms. I was relieved when he was called off the grounds. I couldn't see his face when he told me to stay.

So when I walked down after finishing another book, ready for dinner, I hadn't expected someone would be there.

But here he was.

Blond hair, pine-green eyes. Steel jaw, high cheekbones, pointed ears. Hard eyes.

"Feyre."

I waited. He didn't continue. So I turned, and walked back up the stairs, and settled back into bed.

So I welcomed the headache that cut through my thoughts like a knife through a ribbon.

And slept. And slept. And slept.


End file.
